


pining in anticipation

by ghosthunter



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Lingerie, M/M, a little light d/s, auston is a bottom cowards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 04:06:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18003512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghosthunter/pseuds/ghosthunter
Summary: He’s not sure when it became a thing, he just knows that it’s kind of a thing. No one knows about it, none of his roommates, billets, friends, girlfriends, boyfriends - nothing. Not even his mother, and everyone knows what a mama’s boy he is.





	pining in anticipation

**Author's Note:**

> never let it be said i don't make good on my threats. take a deep breath, imagine ezra miller's playboy shoot. you know that pastel pink, gauzy robe? yeah, that's it. right frame of mind.
> 
>  
> 
> thanks to jarka for the beta.

He’s not sure when it became a thing, he just knows that it’s kind of a thing. No one knows about it, none of his roommates, billets, friends, girlfriends, boyfriends - nothing. Not even his mother, and everyone knows what a mama’s boy he is.

He’s careful, because he doesn’t want people to find out about him. He gets judged for a lot of things, and this isn’t fuel he wants to add to the fire. There’s a lock on one of the drawers of his nightstand, and he keeps it locked, keeps the keys in another room, keeps them with the key to the PO box that he has anything he orders shipped to. And never under his name.

So it’s a thing, but only out of necessity.

He comes home after a game, gets the keys from the cabinet in the bathroom, and unlocks the drawer in his nightstand.

Over the last two years in Toronto, he’s developed quite the collection. Lace bralettes in jewel tones, matching panties in fabrics that he wishes were silks and satins. It’s just that panties don’t really fit him, because they’re not made for his body. And that’s fine, but it means that he doesn’t really bother to do much more than buy cheap barely-there lace from Victoria’s Secret.

Everything else, though... 

He strips out of his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. It’s his game-day suit, but he needs to send it out to the dry cleaner anyway. He tugs the panties on, sliding them up his hips and settling his cock as best he can inside. He stands in front of the mirror, adjusting himself until he likes the way it looks.

The bralette is next. He knows that it doesn’t fit him the way that it’s meant to, but it’s okay. He likes the way it looks. Actual bras never quite fit right, because his pecs are shaped so differently from a woman’s breasts - he sometimes wishes that he could just go to a store, maybe a specialty store, and get what he wants. Not in this life. Not in Toronto.

He has babydolls that are swirls of gauzy fabric around his body, things that slide soft across his skin. He used to wonder, did he want all of this, did he want to be a girl, but that’s not it. He wants to play hockey, he doesn’t mind the way his body is, the way it looks. He just wants better underwear.

The white cotton boxer-briefs of everyday life are just not good enough for him.

Tonight, at home alone, he just wraps himself up in the silky robe that’s his latest acquisition and curls up on his bed, remote in hand. The TV being on is just white noise as he scrolls through his phone. He’s already tired, anyway.

He runs his fingers across his dick over the top of the lace, stretched out on the bed, wrapped up in his soft little robe. It’s easy to get himself off this way, to have the sensation of the lace rubbing down the length of his cock. He strokes himself until he comes, spilling out down the cut of his hip inside the panties.

Well, he’s learned to wash his own delicates, at least.

He doesn’t bother to change, or to clean up. He just snuggles down further in his blankets, wrapping the silky robe tighter around him as he falls asleep.

 

 

The thing with Freddie is something completely different.

Auston doesn’t know a lot of guys who have the ability to just manhandle him - or the interest, really - and make Auston do whatever he wants. And Auston, well, he’s used to whatever guy he’s with expecting Auston to be the one who does all the work, who pushes him down into the bed, who fills him up with a cock.

It’s just not what Auston wants.

What Auston wants is Freddie’s body hot and hard above him, hips snapping when he drives his cock into Auston, presses Auston hard against the mattress until Auston has to turn his head and gasp for air. He’s so good to Auston when he fucks Auston until Auston begs to come, cleans them up after and lets Auston fall asleep on his chest, twirling Auston’s hair around his fingers.

And still, he doesn’t tell Freddie. They hook up at Freddie’s place, and some nights Auston still goes home alone and dresses himself up because he misses it.

He needs to tell Freddie.

It’s just that he kind of worries about it. What Freddie will think about him, once he knows that Auston likes to jerk himself off in panties, or sleep in velvet shorts because he likes the way they feel against his skin. Then again, Freddie never seems to have a problem fucking him until he begs, so maybe it won’t be anything after all.

He invites Freddie over.

“Oh,” Freddie says, and laughs. “You don’t normally allow me at your place.”

“Fuck off,” Auston tells him.

“I feel like I’m a dog you’re finally letting on the couch,” Freddie says. Auston reaches across the center console of the car and slaps Freddie hard on the thigh.

“I just want to show you something,” Auston says.

“I’ve had my tongue on your asshole,” Freddie says, deadpan. Auston barks out a laugh. Half the shit Freddie says that's funny wouldn't be as funny if he didn't say it completely deadpan.

Once Auston gets himself under control, he says, “I just haven’t ever shared this with anyone before, so please take this seriously.”

“I’m not _not_ taking it seriously,” Freddie says. “You’re just being weird.”

“It’s weird,” Auston says.

“You’re nervous,” Freddie says. Auston takes a breath, then sighs.

“Yeah,” he says.

Freddie follows Auston up to his apartment. Auston’s had him over before, but it’s always been in a group of people. He’s never even been in Auston’s bedroom. When they get inside, Auston locks the doors and makes sure all the shades are down, and then the nerves ratchet into a higher gear.

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asks Freddie. “‘Cause. ‘Cause I’m gonna go get ready, and I’m gonna show you, and it’s gonna be a minute.”

“You’re starting to make _me_ a little nervous,” Freddie tells him.

“Fred,” Auston says. “Do you want a beer?”

“Sure,” Freddie says.

Auston leaves him on the couch with a beer and the TV remote and flees down the hall. He shuts the bedroom door maybe too hard and stands there, alone in the dark, taking deep breaths and trying to calm his nerves. Freddie isn’t going to judge him for this. He just has to take the step to show Freddie.

He has to chill the fuck out, because right now the only thing that he’s missing is confidence. What’s Freddie going to do, run around and tell everyone that Auston likes to wear panties around his apartment? That it’s a sex thing? He’d have to be telling everyone that he and Auston are fucking, too, and that seems unlikely.

Telling himself this at least gives Auston the courage to turn on the lights.

He gets the keys from the cabinet in the bathroom, then strips out of his suit, putting it back on the hanger. Then he opens the drawer.

He planned for this. He wanted something special, something just for Freddie. Something that he wouldn’t normally wear just on his own, alone in his bedroom. Something beyond his panties and bralettes.

It’s all lace, and tight, and white, a corset that stretches across his rib cage and leaves marks if he wears it for too long. It doesn’t hold anything in, or push anything up, but he likes the way it looks against his skin. He starts with the panties first, cut high and exposing most of the curve of his ass, the deep cut where the muscle of his thighs meets his torso. He’s already starting to get hard at the thought of Freddie seeing him this way.

It takes extra time to adjust the way his cock looks in the panties.

He doesn’t bother with the bralette, not tonight. It’s a special occasion. But he slips the robe on over his shoulders, gauzy so it plays peek-a-boo with the lace down his torso. He looks good, he thinks, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom. He shuts the drawer and drops they key into the other drawer of the nightstand.

He has to take another few deep breaths before he’s able to open the bedroom door and go out into the hallway.

“Okay,” he says, from farther back where he knows Freddie can’t see him from the couch. “I want you to know that this is not the normal stuff I - well, I got this special for you, because I was going to show you, and. Well.”

“Auston, just come out here,” Freddie finally says.

Auston has to take three more deep breaths before he can walk down the hall. But he does it. Freddie is turned around on the couch, waiting. At least this way, Auston has the satisfaction of seeing his eyes go wide when he catches sight of what Auston’s wearing.

“Aus,” Freddie says.

“Do you like it?” Auston asks.

“I don’t know why you were so nervous,” Freddie says. “You look…” Auston’s seen himself in the mirror, he knows what he looks like, the planes of his body covered in lace and satin and the barest suggestion of fabric.

“Do you like it?” Auston repeats.

“Yes,” Freddie says. “Come here.”

Auston goes, and Freddie reaches out, putting his hands on Auston’s hips guiding him down to sit on Freddie’s lap. He runs his hands over the fabric of the robe, then pushes it aside to run his fingers over the satin trimmings of the corset.

“You bought this just for me?” Freddie asks him.

“This thing,” Auston says, and runs his hands down the corset, bringing them to rest on top of Freddie’s.

“What would you normally wear?” Freddie asks, his voice quiet.

“Panties,” Auston tells him. “I like the way they - and I have little. Bra. Things. Soft things. Not like this.”

“Do you,” Freddie asks, and strokes one finger down the length of Auston’s cock where it’s enclosed in his panties, “get yourself off? In these?”

“I like the way it feels,” Auston says, his voice a little breathier than he’d like.

“So you like when I do this?” Freddie asks, stroking his fingers down the length of Auston’s cock again. It makes Auston rock his hips forward into Freddie’s hand. “Do you want me to fuck you with them on?”

Auston fucking whimpers. He can’t help himself.

“Yeah?” Freddie says. “You like that?”

“Fuck,” Auston says. “Fuck. Please.”

“Get up,” Freddie says.

Auston does, climbing off Freddie’s lap. They stare at each other for a moment, Auston’s cock straining at the fabric of his panties.

They leave the robe on the floor next to the bed and Freddie pushes Auston down onto the blankets. He leaves Auston lying there as he strips himself out of his suit. Once he’s naked, he joins Auston on the bed.

He strokes his thumb down the line of Auston’s jaw, kisses him slowly. Auston rolls to press against Freddie, to rub his body along Freddie’s. There’s nothing between them now except the flimsy lace and the satin ribbons holding together the boning of what Auston’s wearing. Freddie moves his hands down, grips Auston by his ass and pulls him closer, ensuring that Auston’s lace-bound cock grinds against his.

“I see why you like it,” Freddie says. “I’m not saying I want to fuck you like this all the time, but I do like it.”

Auston would preen, if he weren’t trying to get more friction on his dick. He does like when Freddie praises him. He arches his back, presses his cock hard against Freddie.

“Do you want me to pull your panties aside and fuck you?” Freddie whispers to him, mouthing along Auston’s jaw toward his ear. It makes Auston shiver, makes him moan and dig his fingers into Freddie’s shoulder. “Yeah, you’d like that. Roll over for me.”

Auston rolls onto his stomach obediently, wiggling his hips a little bit to enjoy the friction of the lace against his cock. Freddie doesn’t warm up the lube on his fingers, mostly because he likes making Auston squirm, and if Auston’s honest, he likes the sensation of Freddie’s fingers going in cold and slick.

It’s even better with the panties pulled to the side, jerked taut and uncomfortable across one cheek of his ass.

It’s a good thing Freddie gets him up on his knees to take it, because otherwise Auston would be grinding off against the mattress while Freddie fucks him with his fingers. He’s not quite as open as he’d like when Freddie pushes in, impatient. It burns a little, and Freddie stops when Auston tenses around him. He strokes his hands slowly down Auston’s body, over the lace, tracing his fingers down the seams, and the boning, a distraction.

Auston lets Freddie know he’s ready for more by pushing his hips back, taking Freddie’s cock deeper. Freddie holds still, lets Auston work himself back onto Freddie’s cock, lets Auston set the initial pace.

Freddie reaches down and grabs a handful of Auston’s hair, pulling him up. Freddie’s on his knees between Auston’s thighs, and it’s an easy thing for Auston to work himself on Freddie’s dick. Freddie pulls Auston’s head back, licks his way down the line of Auston’s throat as Auston fucks himself using Freddie’s cock.

Freddie uses the hand not tangled in Auston’s hair to reach down, to tweak one of Auston’s nipples hard enough to make him gasp. He moves his hand the rest of the way down, cupping it over Auston’s cock, still hard in the panties. He strokes Auston’s cock a few times through the fabric, then pushes his fingers past the band, wrapping his hand around Auston’s cock.

Auston gasps when he comes spilling hot over Freddie’s hand. Freddie grips Auston’s hair harder, pulls his head back sharper, bites at Auston’s shoulder as he comes, thrusting his hips up hard, driving his cock into Auston.

Freddie lets go of Auston’s hair, lets himself sink down onto the bed, lets Auston lean back against him, breathing hard. Freddie wipes his hand off on the blanket. It takes him a moment, but he catches his breath to ease the two of them onto the bed.

“Thank you,” Freddie says.

“What?” Auston asks, sleep and confused in a post-orgasm haze.

“For sharing with me,” Freddie says, brushing Auston’s hair off his forehead. “I know you were nervous.”

“I shouldn’t have been,” Auston says.

“No,” Freddie says. “I like you the way you are.”

“Even in panties?” Auston asks.

“Oh, especially in panties,” Freddie says, and laughs.

Auston grins and kisses him.

**Author's Note:**

> on twitter @notedgoon, threatening new horrors every day.


End file.
